“Waste not, want not.” Darius eyed Nazario’s body as James scrubbed the blood off. “Though some of this shit we definitely do not want.”
This was why they were friends, besides the murders and game nights. They all shared a certain strategic mindset.
“We’ll need to do a full audit,” Bishop said. “Figure out what parts of the organization we want to dismantle. Report whatever the cops can handle, disappear whatever they can’t. But their tech infrastructure, maybe some real estate… could be useful.”
“Some subordinates might need murdering,” James said casually, drying his hands on a dish towel. They would need to dispose of that later. “If they knew anything about my family.”
“I’ll have some spare time in my sudden retirement,” Darius added. “I could dabble in evil empire management.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.” Bishop wanted to start digging now. He had a feeling the Rat Kings’ claws were in plenty of old cases. But first thing’s first. “One of you call Kit and tell him you’ll be home late. Because none of us are leaving until we’ve cleaned up this mess.”
Bishop definitely wasn’t jealous of the way they both raced to call first.
30
harmonious family breakfast nonsense
Kit was ready to be furious when James and Darius got home. The garage door echoed his thundering anger. An entire day of limited updates. Holden did his best, but he couldn’t distract Kit the entire time. All Kit knew was that his men were fine, and everything else was good.
The vagueness meant James and Darius didn’t want to put the details in writing.
But Kit’s anger deflated with one look at them coming in through the garage door. Darius and James were exhausted. Dazed. They both wore the same clothes Kit last saw them in, rumpled and worse for wear.
Darius had a black eye and swelling along his left jaw. Somehow, he looked better off than James’s hollowed-out stare.
“About time,” Kit said quietly—then squeaked as James flung a hug around him. All his breath squeezed out, Kit gasped, “Missed you both.”
James buried his face in Kit’s shoulder, and his arms tightened like tentacles. A broad hand ruffled Kit’s hair. Darius, if Kit was tracking everyone’s hands right.
“Sorry about vanishing on you,” Darius said, sounding just as tired as James. “Shit got complicated fast.”
“Are you okay?” Kit tried to turn, but James’s tentacle grip only tightened. “You’re hurt.”
“That was me,” James mumbled into Kit’s shoulder.
“What?” Kit managed to wriggle away to properly inspect Darius’s face. “What the fuck happened?”
Darius held still. No flinch of pain as Kit’s fingertips ghosted over dark bruises. “I’m fine. I knew I would piss him off.” Darius covered Kit’s hand, then drew him close for a kiss on the knuckles. “I killed one of his targets before he got there.”
One of his targets. Kit stumbled over the idea. It couldn’t be. James was still searching. Still preparing. Except by the look on James’s face, that was exactly what Darius meant.
“Oh, that’s the worst,” Holden said, lurking nearby. “Bishop did that to me once. I get it.”
Kit grabbed James’s arm—but James’s flash of rage had already fizzled out. He barely tensed under Kit’s grasp.
“You don’t get it,” James said, with a manic-tired grin. “Be grateful for that. But hey. Darius left the second one for me. So, we’re okay.”
“The second one,” Kit repeated, not letting go of James. “You mean the Rat Kings? They’re both dead?”
“Thoroughly.” James entwined their fingers. His touch brushed over Darius’s kiss. “The Rat Kings are dead. My family is avenged. I’m taking a fucking nap.”
Each word struck Kit’s heart like a hammer. He’d never heard James need him so much. Their clasped hands were a wordless plea for comfort.
Darius would be okay for tonight. Kit would demand explanations for his vanishing act later. James needed him now.
“Behave,” Kit ordered the others. Then he dragged James upstairs.
Kit led James to the bedroom they had shared already—the one they broke in on their first day in the house. Rust-orange walls and rumpled white bedding and new memories taking root. Late evening blazed through sheer curtains, and neither Kit nor James reached for the light switch.
